Captured
by bookwormqueen
Summary: sequel (of sorts) to 'Nightmares' and 'Soulmates' (not posted yet). slightly AU, but not by much. please r&r and tell me what you think should happen next!


(Disclaimer: why do I bother? Everyone knows they're not mine!  
  
As you read, please keep in mind that this is an un-beta'd, unfinished fic. If you want to beta it for me, or if you have any plot bunnies you think I should use, please let me know, either in a review or by email. Thanks!  
  
- writer)  
  
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Saavik woke, suddenly and completely, to complete stillness. There was no light, no sound, no sense of movement or gravity. She stretched out her senses, taking inventory of all sensations. She was uninjured, though there was evidence of recent, severe injuries. Her time sense was distorted, unreliable, though she got the impression that a great deal of time had passed. As far as she could tell, her mind had not been tampered with, save for one thing – the bond was muted. She filed that sensation away for later examination and continued exploring her surroundings.  
There was no light, so she could not see. She could hear no sound, though the fact that she could breathe told her that there was simply nothing to be heard. The lack of gravity and motion indicated an antigrav- equipped stasis unit. She was not strapped down or otherwise restrained, but she found it difficult to move. Satisfied that she had examined her surroundings as best she could, she turned her thoughts inward and bean to reconstruct what had happened.  
  
It had been a simple, routine away mission in a series of such missions. So routine, in fact, that Saavik, bored with sitting on the bridge with nothing to do during these missions, had decided to lead this one herself. She had even authorized shore leave on this idyllic, uninhabited world. Unfortunately, the planet had been inhabited – by a Romulan research facility. Well hidden, the guards, equipped with personal cloaking devices, had been detected by Saavik only an instant before their attack. The away team, taken by surprise, had fought back. Saavik vaguely recalled someone shouting through a communicator for backup, and then nothing until she woke here, wherever 'here' was.  
  
Time passed. Saavik did not bother keeping track. She simply lay there, existing. Much of the time she did not even think, letting her mind become blank. Every so often, she would tug on the muted bond. Each time, there was no answering tug. She was not worried, though. If she could still sense him, she knew he would sense her. As long as that was true, he would come when she needed him. Her thoughts drifted into nothingness as she fell asleep.  
  
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Spock was jolted out of his meditation when he felt the bond snap. Already weakened by the vast distance which separated them, it suddenly disappeared. Searching his mind, Spock found the reassuring presence of her existence. It was not the sharp, clear certainty he had become accustomed to over the past several decades. Rather, it was the muted, unmistakable sense of the life which was *hers* that he had known since she was a child. Knowing he would be contacted immediately if anything happened to her, he returned to his meditation, content simply knowing she lived.  
  
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Thump. Thump. Thump. After so long in absolute silence, even the soft tapping sounded loud. Saavik strained her senses, trying to determine the source of the sound. Omnidirectional, it sounded as though someone were tapping on the cover of her prison. She could discern no pattern to the sound, no hidden communication. Fresh, cold air rushed over her as the cover was removed, making her shiver. She opened her eyes, expecting light, and found only darkness. Cold, reptilian hands lifted her up. She was carried some distance before being set down on a biobed and strapped down. She heard the hum of a tricorder as it was passed over her body. She shivered in the cold air. Someone covered her with a sheet and tucked it in around her. Except for the sounds of the medical equipment, there was silence. No one spoke.  
A hypospray hissed against her neck and she felt the contents enter her bloodstream. The nutrient solution was welcome, and she felt better for it. But there was something else, something foreign, in her now. It reached her brain, clouding her thoughts, eroding her control, and she panicked. Unable and unwilling to make a sound, she hurled her thoughts across the bond, hoping against hope that he would hear.  
  
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Spock had just called a break in the negotiations he was working on when he noticed a change in the bond. When he returned to his quarters, however, there was a real-time subspace transmission waiting for him. He answered it.  
An Imperial Romulan appeared on the screen. "Ambassador Spock. I believe we have something of yours."  
"You have me at a disadvantage. You call me by name, yet withhold your own. You claim to have something of mine, but do not tell me what. Clearly, whatever you have is of value to both of us, or you would not be calling. What do you have, and what do you want in exchange?"  
"Our intelligence sources tell us that your Federation has Borg armor technology. We want it. As for what we have of yours, I'm surprised you don't already know. Starfleet is getting sloppier, I see. But no matter. You will find out soon enough. We expect your reply within 48 hours. Good- bye, Ambassador. Have a pleasant day." The Romulan signed off.  
The com console beeped and flashed, indicating another incoming transmission. It was Starfleet Command. "Ambassador Spock."  
"Admiral."  
"I'm calling to inform you that Captain Saavik has disappeared."  
Spock raised one eyebrow. "I believe the Romulans have her."  
"We have been unable to - *What* did you say?"  
"I believe the Romulans have her," Spock repeated patiently. "I just received a call from them, demanding Borg armor technology in exchange for 'something of mine'."  
"The Borg armor technology is classified and not to be given to the Romulans. It is *not* to be used as a bargaining tool."  
Spock looked at the admiral significantly. "I am aware of that, *admiral*. But I will do everything in my power to ensure my wife's release." The admiral began to sputter and was cut off by another transmission, one using Saavik's personal emergency override code.  
"Ambassador." The image on the screen was that of Saavik's first officer, Commander Myrna Apirana. "I apologize for using this code, but it concerns your wife."  
"No apology necessary, commander. I presume you are about to tell me she's missing?"  
"Well, yes. How did you know?"  
"This is the third call I have received to that effect," Spock said dryly. "Did you have some more information concerning her disappearance?"  
"Only that we're ready to assist you in any way we can. I'm sending you our sensor data and the recordings of the conversation with the away team. Just let us know how we can help, and we'll be glad to."  
Spock scanned the data. "I will be ready to join you in a week. Can you arrange something?"  
"Of course. I will contact you again with the details. Apirana out." The line closed, leaving Spock alone.  
  
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Saavik was cold. She shivered as the sheet which covered her was removed and the restraints holding her down were undone. The same reptilian hands lifted her again, carrying her for quite some distance through a number of doors. She was too cold to count.  
She was set down on a soft bed, and the covers were pulled up around her. She heard the door open and close several times, but no one ever said anything. Part of her was terrified, panicking, reaching across the bond seeking reassurance. But part of her was relaxed, unconcerned, which only panicked her further. What was happening? She knew only that she had been captured and drugged. For what purpose, she could only imagine.  
Time passed. The door opened again. Someone approached her, barefoot, and pulled back the covers. He, for it was a male, trailed his fingers down her face, and she felt her body respond to his touch. He slid in beside her, letting his body touch hers over their entire length. His mouth found hers and he kissed her gently. His hands moved over her, caressing her, sending fire through her body. Her mind cried out against it, calling her bondmate's name. There was no answer.  
  
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Spock finally identified what was different. Saavik was panicking. He was certain that she had never panicked before in her life, and he was equally certain that she needed him *now*. {{I'm coming, Saavikam,}} he sent, knowing she wouldn't hear him. {{Wait for me. I'm coming.}}  
  
A week later, Spock materialized in the transporter room of the USS Alleya. Apirana met him and immediately handed him a padd. He glanced at it. It contained orders - *his* orders, his reactivation orders. Apirana nodded. "Those just came in. You're to take command of this ship."  
Spock inspected the document, then scrutinized Apirana. "These are forged."  
"Are you sure?" She seemed nervous, defensive.  
"Yes. And you helped create them." It was a statement, not an accusation, but Apirana took a defensive stance. Spock signed the padd, accepting his 'orders'. He held up his hand, stopping her from speaking. "It will only be a problem if anyone actually inspects them." He tucked the padd into his robes. "If you would show me to my quarters, I will change and report to the bridge." Startled, Apirana complied.  
  
The quarters Spock was given were Saavik's, and he brushed off Apirana's apologies, finding it appropriate that he take his wife's quarters. Apirana left him, assuring him that he was not needed on the bridge so he could take as much time as he needed to 'settle in'. Spock wandered through his cabin, noticing all the little things that made the place Saavik's. He settled himself in meditation, surrounded by her things, and reached across the bond for her presence.  
  
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Alone again. Saavik woke to the near-silence of solitude in space. The engines spoke to her, informing her they were in warp. She still could not see, and she was still feeling the effects of whatever drug she had been given. Silently, she screamed and cursed. But she still could not move, and so she was still panicked. She could not remember what had happened, but she knew it had been unpleasant. She let her mind drift, not really awake, not really asleep, but not meditating either.  
There was a tug on the bond. She grabbed at it, savored it, returned it. {{Spock!}} He sent love, and reassurance, and patience, and she sent joy and love and relief. He was coming, and he would find her, and everything would be all right.  
Someone touched her, stroked her face, her arms, just as she remembered. But it was not *him*. *He* was still out there, looking for her. She clung to his presence in her mind, and he sent reassurance, because everything would turn out all right. She panicked as she was touched again, and her body responded, drugged into needing the attention. *He* soothed her, as he always had, and she understood that it was ok, that he would come, that he knew she did not want to. She slept, holding tight to his presence as she was raped again and again.  
  
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Spock took command of the Alleya, falling into old habits. No one seemed to mind when he micromanaged, or took over the science station when he found something interesting to investigate. He was in the science lab when the ship shook and the red alert klaxon blared. He arrived on the bridge moments later and took the seat Apirana vacated for him. "Report!"  
"An unidentified vessel appeared on our scans, pulled up beside us, and fired without warning. They're not responding to our hails, and they have Borg technology."  
"Borg armor deployed, shields holding at ninety-seven percent. Phasers fully charged and ready, operating at ninety-eight percent efficiency. Photon torpedoes loaded and ready."  
"Warp engines at fifty-three percent and climbing; impulse engines at ninety-one percent and holding."  
"No detectable pattern in the enemy's movements. Firing pattern is erratic and defies calculation."  
Spock listened to the reports with part of his mind, watching and analyzing the enemy with another. "Fascinating," he murmured to himself. Aloud, he ordered, "Fire at will, but aim to disable. I would like to examine something other than sub-atomic particles." His tactical officer acknowledged the order and began firing.  
  
When it became clear to the occupants of the Borg ship that they were going to lose, they contacted the Alleya. "Don't kill us!" "Resistance is futile." "Stop! Don't shoot!" "We are the Borg. Prepare to be assimilated." "No, wait!"  
Spock watched patiently. Finally the confused, half-Borg inhabitants of the other ship grew quiet and still. "I am Captain Spock of the USS Alleya." He waited.  
"We are the Borg. We mean, we are . . ." He trailed off, unsure. "We're not Borg. We were. We – AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! No!!!!!!!!!! Noooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" He broke off, screaming and clutching his head. His companions held similar postures of extreme pain.  
"Transport them to Sickbay, maximum security, and begin disconnecting them from the Collective. Commander, I want that ship thoroughly searched, its memory core stripped and the information analyzed. Inform me when the information is downloaded and the ship searched. I will be in my quarters."  
  
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(there is more, I promise! I just have to find that plot bunny again. Now where did it go?  
  
Anyway, please r&r, because I need to know what you all think should happen next. So tell me, please?) 


End file.
